


I'll lead you to salvation

by ArtFoxLife



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Will, Cannibalism, Case Fic, Descent into Madness, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Inferno (La Divina Commedia | The Divine Comedy - Dante Alighieri), M/M, Manipulation, Murder Husbands, Nightmares, Possessive Hannibal Lecter, Slow Burn, Top Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24286873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtFoxLife/pseuds/ArtFoxLife
Summary: Will has spend his life hunting the Chesapeake ripper. What happens when the ripper starts to hunt him?
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 69





	1. The woods

His breathing was quick and shallow, partly due to panic and partly because he was running for what felt like hours. Adrenalin pumping in his veins helped him to stay upright and continue moving forward, but he was already starting to feel his calves burning. The pale moonlight, shining through the tree branches, was enough to see the path ahead of him, but the foliage was getting thicker and he started to question for how long will he be able to follow it further.

He stumbled and had to stop to right himself. Without the hollow thud of his boots he finally got a chance to listen to the forest itself. The whisper of wind and leaves filled his senses, quiet at first but getting louder and louder, almost as if to bade him to continue, not to linger. He turned around to look back at the path he followed here, but only darkness greeted him. The trees there were so dense no light could seep through them to help him see, so dense even, he couldn’t have come through there. The whisper of the forest became a shout and then silence.

A branch snapped in the distance. He couldn’t tell from which direction the sound came, but it echoed in his mind, mixed with his own shallow breaths.

Will woke up with a start and hurriedly looked around. He was in his bed in Wolf trap, his night shirt sweated through and Winston watching him with questioning gaze. His breathing slowed down after a while and he got up to fetch a glass of water from the kitchen sink. Right as he was crossing the threshold to his bedroom, there it was again. The sound. Branch snapping as if stepped on, right behind him, but when he turned around, nothing there.

…..

“Dreams are considered a way for the mind to sort through various stimuli encoutered throughout the day enabling offline memory reprocessing, in which the brain consolidates learning and memory tasks and supports and records waking consciousness.“

Will shaked his head and looked down on his hands folded in his lap, noticing and not for the first time, how his own shirt clashed with the undoubtedly expensive upholstery of Hannibal’s office.

“I am a psychoanalyst Dr. Lecter, I already knew that. It doesn‘t explain why I‘ve been having this specific dream for a week now. Every night, the same forest, the same feeling of dread, of being hunted.”

Hannibal leaned back in his seat and thought for a moment.

“Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, for the straightforward pathway had been lost.”

“Therapy by Dante? That is more likely to put me into mental assylum than keep me from it.” said Will looking up, a small smile tugging on his lips.

“The metaphor is a fitting one I believe. Dante’s dark forest at the beginning of Inferno represents him being lost in his life, not knowing where he is heading and unable to turn back, surrounded by that which is unholy. You also strive to find your place in the world, but unable to do so you pull back and live on it’s edge. You surround yourself with the thoughts of killers, clouding your mind and sight, running away, yet unable to let go. How many times have you lost the notion of your own self? How many times did you have to crawl your way out on the light? Maybe that is why your dreams are filled with dark woods at night, because that is where you loose yourself during the day. Maybe the last crime scene you visited has left much more profound impression on you than you would like to acknowledge.”

Will sighed and combed his hair with his fingers. Several curls have fallen in his eyes. He would need a haircut soon.

“So you think I’m running towards the mountain, looking for salvation?”

Standing up from his chair Hannibal buttoned up his jacket and walked around the table, leaning on it.

“Maybe you are not running towards the mountain Will, but away from it.”

Shocked expression crossed Will’s face, “Who do you take me for, that I would be running away from heaven?”

Something primal showed itself in Hannibal’s eyes, but disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving only his usual polite, yet unreadable expression, “Maybe it’s not that you do not want to ascend the mountain, maybe you are just afraid three beasts will stand in your way, finding you unworthy just as you consider yourself to be. So your run away from the mountain and from the judgement of your soul.”

“If this is your way to cheer me up, please remind me not to ask you to do that. Ever.”

Hannibal smiled, “Will, I would never dare to disgrace you by treating you like a fragile teacup, only to be safely stored behind a glass. Don’t ask me to do that.”

Will felt fondness swell in his chest, “Yes, I suppose, you are right.”

……

It happened over a week ago, Jack called him in the middle of his ride home, they have found a body. He stopped the car and pulled to the side of the road folding his hands and laying his head on the steering wheel. Another body, another crime scene to analyse, another darkness to be let inside of his mind. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, calming himself enough to start the car again and turn around.

The address Jack sent him lead him to a remote house at the edge of woods. The place looked peaceful, Will could imagine himself living there. A location almost as remote as his own house. Jack waited for him in front of an old pickup truck, obviously not used for several years, considering the missing tires and empty hood gaping open. He nodded in greeting and let himself be led behind the house and into the forest along a narrow path.

The body was strung on a wire in between trees, empty eye sockets gazing up towards the sky. His naked skin riddled by small cuts, as if caused by journeying through thick undergrowth, right leg covered by vines threaded through it’s meat and falling down into the tall grass, disappearing in it and creating an illusion of the forest itself trying to keep the victim from leaving. His left foot still in muddy white sneaker, the other laying abandoned bellow in the grass.

Will felt an eerie sense of connection to the victim, instead of putting on the skin of the killer, he found himself suspended the air, watching pale moon traversing the planes of night sky. The feeling of belonging stunned him and filled him with peace he haven’t felt in long time. It was Jack’s hand on his shoulder that roused him up from his reverie.

“So what do you think Will? Is it him?”  
He hesitated for a moment, slowly glancing from Jack to the body and back again, his mind still in a haze. He didn’t know. He didn’t know, because he watched, but didn’t see. The scene enveloped him so completely he forgot the reason of being there. Taking a deep breath he looked back at the body and willed himself to concentrate.

“It’s the Chesapeake ripper, I’m sure of that, but there is something… unusual about it.”

“Unusual? What do you mean?” Jack turned towards the body and examined it, looking for details he missed, details only Will could see.

“His works are usually works of art, creating something beautiful to him from those he consider below him. This seems more like a message or a story he is trying to convey. The victim is covered by small cuts which are supposed to look like from thorns and branches, but they were obviously done by some sort of a blade, so it was a deliberate idea he wanted to convey and not a result of him pursuing his kill through the forest. Correct me if I’m wrong, but there don’t seem to be any organs missing except his eyes, which is highly abnormal for him, yet it undoubtedly has his signature all over it.”

Jack considered his words for a moment and nodded, “You are right, no other part of the body was removed. Do you have an explanation for this?”

Explanation? Will had none, but he had something different. A nagging thought in the back of his head, crawling like a maggot on a rotting flesh.

He didn’t take any because it was not his to take.

Turning around he shook his head and headed out of the shadow of the trees out, the calm he felt just seconds ago seeping out of him.


	2. The moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will continues to have nightmares and Hannibal continues to being Hannibal. The chase beginns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter is here, rejoice! I will try to post once a week on Mondays/Tuesdays.

“Have you been having any more nightmares since our last session?

Will sighed and sat in the chair, shoulders hunched.

”Still the same thing, running from someone chasing me, it changes only slightly each time. Last night I lost a shoe.“ he uttered humourlessly.

„You have clearly connected to the victim on a level you have not experienced previously. You see yourself in his place, hunted and frightened. Why do you believe that is? What have you seen at the crime scene, that it made such a profound impact on you?”

“It was…” said Will, a hint of reverence in his voice, pausing and shaking his head, curls jumping lightly from side to side, “There were few irregularities in the execution, but other than that it was fairly standard.”

“I am sure that is what I would find in the report you have submitted to Jack, but that is not what you have actually felt, is it?”

The reaction was immediate, Will’s pupils have dilated, jaw tensed. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, a pray awaiting the final blow. 

Hannibal wanted to strike, to push more, but knew it would not be the best course of the action and so he  stood up, walked to a small table next to a window, pouring two glasses of whiskey and handing one t o Will.

“Maybe you would rather talk about what is going through your head right now?” he said carefully, akin to calming a scared animal.

“I think you are asking questions, you wouldn’t actually like to hear the answers to Dr. Lecter.“ retorded Will, a hollow laugh echoing in the quiet room.

“I can not say I appreciate your presumptions about me...” said Hannibal seriously, “...Mr. Graham.” he finished, a smile tugging at his lips. “I do not tend to ask empty questions and I also do not condemn the answers I am given, nor the one giving them. There is no need for secrets between us Will, secrets exists because people are afraid of loosing the acceptance of others. Nothing you could say will shock me, or make me think less of you.”

A long pause followed, filled only by the whistling sound of the wind outside of the windows.

Storm was coming. The depiction of his mind to Will, but a symbol of change to Hannibal, seeing hope where the other saw only despair.

“I felt peace.”

Hannibal sipped his drink and moved to sit on a chair next to Will.

“Unlike other crime scenes you have visited, which left you in turmoil of emotions and thoughts you were not sure were yours, this one brought a peace you so desire. That scares you.”

“Is that a question or a statement doctor?”

“I have no need to ask when I know the answer, and please, omit the titles. We are just friends having a conversation.”

“We are not friends. I can hardly handle acquaintances, let alone friends. Furthermore, you are a psychiatrist and we are in your office, on a scheduled therapy session.”

“Would you feel better if we meet somewhere else? A dinner maybe?”

Will scoffed at that, exasperated look on his face.

“A dinner? Really Hannibal?”

“No Dr. Lecter? I will consider that a progress.” he said smiling.

Will seemed taken aback for a moment, but then a genuine smile curved his lips in response. A quiet laugh escaped him, surprising himself.

“Is it an important step in my recovery?” Will said, voice almost teasing.

“I have to point out that as I have said before, this is not a therapy and you are not my patient. Although you could see it as an important step towards considering me a friend.”

Another silence fell upon the room, wind gaining speed outside and moaning louder that just a few minutes ago. Will leaned forward in his chair and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms.

Just when Hannibal started to think he might have gone too far, Will spoke his whisper muffled by his hands still covering his face.

“I don’t get it. I don’t get you. What do you stand to gain from me? Why do you keep insisting we become friends? I don’t appreciate art, opera or any other of your high society interests. Anyone seeing us together would rather suppose I’m your gardener than a friend.” spat Will, the tone of his voice getting progressively more agitated.

“It is quite easy. I consider you a kindred spirit. A conversation with you is always challenging me in a way no one else could dream of, you are refreshingly blunt and honest with me, never holding back, but never judging my words, or me. As unrefined jewel as you are, you are a breath of fresh of air in comparison to anyone I know with ‘high society interests’ as you said.”

“So what you are saying is you are bored and I’m the shiny new toy to entertain yourself with?”

Hannibal let out a deep sigh. This self deprecation will not do in the long term, but nothing to be done about it right now, other than being patient with the man.

“What I am saying is, I enjoy our time together and I would be honoured to be considered your friend one day.” said Hannibal calmly.

The anger growing inside of Will seemed to disappear at that and only thing that was left were tired eyes looking at Hannibal filled with a hint of apology. He combed a hand though his hair, trying to appear more put together than he felt.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to… to accuse you… I acted as an ass a little right now, huh?”

“There is no need for such a crude language Will, really.” the tension brought by Will’s previous outburst slowly left Hannibal and made way to a hint of fondness for the other man, “Although yes, you were kind of… ass.”

A smile returned to Will’s face at that and he shook his head with a soft laugh.

Branch hitting the window caught their attention to what was happening outside. The sky almost black, strong wind bending trees in the distance. It wasn’t raining yet, but it would undoubtedly start to in no time.

“I should get going before the storm really starts, it doesn’t seem like it will go away quickly.” sighed Will, got up from his chair and went to take his jacket of the coat-hanger.

Surprised by the sudden change Hannibal didn’t react for a while, but soon found his footing and got up too, following Will to the door of his office.

“You live an hour drive from here, the storm would catch up to you long before you could arrive to your house and it is not safe to travel in a weather like this. What would you say to a dinner at my place? It is not far from here and I would rather enjoy a company this evening. The storm will be gone in a few hours and you can head home after.”

Will stopped and stared at him incredulously, one hand in the sleeve of his jacket, mouth opening, but no sound coming out.

“You are inviting me to a dinner?” he gasped.

“Well you have suggested a change of scenery for our meetings, I think this is a suitable proposal.” said Hannibal a hint of smugness in his voice.

“I never did suggest that, you did.” laughed Will.

Hannibal took his coat and opened the door.

“And what an excellent idea it was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated.


End file.
